Of Birds and Bees
by Red Roses2
Summary: France isn't allowed to tell America and Canada that they are the result of France and England having "fun time." Come find out why. Done for destroyeverythin1.


Red Roses2: Okay, I'm doing this for destroyeverthin1 and her Axis Powers Hetalia "Things (insert Character's name) Isn't Allowed to Do" stories. The thing that a country isn't allowed to do: France isn't allowed to tell America and Canada that they are the result of France and England "having fun time." And this is going to be SO much fun. *grins*

Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia. That belongs solely to Hidekaz Himaruya. The idea for the fan fiction comes from destroyeverythin1.

Number 21 of Chapter 1

France always enjoyed a party. It was the perfect opportunity to drink wine, flirt, eat, flirt, make fun of other nations, flirt, try to get England into his bed, and flirt. America's birthday party wasn't any exception.

And it always made that seventh one so much easier.

England hiccupped, but France barely heard it over Miley Cyrus's "Party in the USA". (America always did play his music way too loud.) The younger nation brought the glass of Guinness to his lips, but he missed, and the liquid poured down his front. He didn't seem to notice much.

"Ish not fair," England slurred, absently wiping the front of his shirt while reaching for another bottle with the other hand.

France poured more alcohol into England's glass.

"What isn't fair?" he asked, though he already knew. England complained about the same old thing whenever plastered, and sometimes when he wasn't plastered.

"I gave that brat everything! Then he goesh and – goesh and doesh this!"

England gestured randomly at the kitchen surrounding them, the laughter floating in from outside and . . . who invited Russia!?

France quickly stood up and tried to reach the sliding doors before Russia spotted them (and the alcohol), but too late. Russia glanced into the room, and then made a bee-line towards the kitchen table.

"Is there any vodka?" he asked England.

England gestured at the armada of bottles.

"America jush hash Ireland'sh shtuff."

"Ah. Is it anything like vodka?"

England handed Russia a bottle.

"Shee for yourshelsh."

France smacked his forehead as Russia sat down and brought the bottle to his lips.

"Ah, England, perhaps we should check up on Canada, non?"

England stared at him for a moment.

"Who?"

"Ca-na-da. The child we raised together. Remember . . . ?"

Russia put an arm around England's shoulders.

"I think he wants to stay here and drink with me, da?"

England must have mistaken Russia for someone else, because he nodded his head and downed some more Guinness.

"Go bother shomeone else, Fransh."

France gasped and clutched his chest, right over where his heart would be. _Are they sure that was just Guinness he was drinking?_ Did Russia put something in them to make everyone find him unthreatening!?

"AMERICA!"

France burst out of the kitchen, onto the deck, where the real party was happening.

It looked like Japan had broken out the karaoke machine. Ironically enough, America was singing "American Idiot" by Green Day. Korea was forcing China to dance with him, and Italy was doing some kind of mockery of patty-cake with Germany. The Baltics were playing Go Fish with the rest of the United Nation countries, Hong Kong, Sealand, and Cuba – wait, Cuba? Why was he here?

France felt something tug at his sleeve, but when he turned around, he didn't see anyone.

"Uh, over here, Papa."

France turned around again. Still, no one.

"No, the other over here."

Ah, there he was.

"Hello, Canada."

"Hello, Papa. Um, I've been meaning to a-ask – no, t-to tell you something. . . ."

"Yes?"

"Um, well, you see – um . . . ."

"Ah, Canada, there you are!"

Cuba walked over to them and magically produced ice cream from thin air – oh, wait, Canada was holding two ice cream cones the whole time.

For someone who treated Canada like he was his son, France didn't pay nearly enough attention to him.

"Cuba," Canada said, "I-I was just about to tell Papa about the – the thing we wanted to tell him."

Cuba rubbed the back of his neck.

"What part are you up to?"

Canada bowed his head.

"T-the part where I tell him I want to tell him something."

Cuba chuckled a little and put an arm around Canada's shoulders.

"You can do it, Canada."

France tilted his head to the side, curious . . . and getting the feeling that he was forgetting something important. Something about the way that Cuba was touching and talking to Canada . . . .

Then it hit him.

"You're _dating Cuba!?_" France declared.

Canada turned bright red, and Cuba grinned but France could see a throbbing vein in his forehead. The music suddenly cut off, and France could feel everyone's stares.

That didn't stop France from glomping Canada. Canada gave a small squeak as France smothered his face into his chest.

"Congratulations, mon Canada! Why didn't you tell me sooner? I could've helped you woo him!"

"He didn't need your help!" shouted Cuba; France could imagine how red his face would've looked had he not had the dark complexion. "Besides, had he gone to you for help, he'd probably just scare me off."

France let go of Canada so he could look properly offended. Canada sighed in relief, only to open his eyes and find America suddenly standing right in front of him.

"I won't allow it! How come you didn't talk to me about this?" America yelled . . . while in an outfit that looked like it was made out of United States flags, right down to the shoes. (Fun fact: he never washes it. Ever.)

"Wh- what? I – I don't have to talk to you about my personal affairs. . . ." Canada said.

"Personal affairs!? He's making you become one with him!"

"I am not!" protested Cuba. "We're still completely independent countries, we've just taken our personal relationship to a new level!"

"I see past your lies, Cuba! You're planning on getting to me through my brother!"

"That's a load of crap! I'll kick your ass without any stupid pretenses, and I'd never hurt Canada just for a chance to humiliate you!"

Their argument continued until it deteriorated into racial slurs and negative stereotypical insults, but France was only paying attention to one thing that either of them said.

_Become one with him. _Now who did THAT remind us of?

France paled considerably once he remembered why he had come out here.

He grabbed America's shoulders and whirled him around, cutting his argument with Cuba short.

"America! Do you have any vodka!?"

America stared at him for a moment, trying to process that he wasn't talking to Cuba anymore and what France's question actually was.

"Uh, no? I gave it to Lithuania quite some time ago as a Christmas gift."

France paled even more, his thoughts racing to think of something else to distract Russia with. There was no telling what he'd be doing to England once he went back inside.

"Sunflowers! Do you have sunflowers!?"

America pointed towards his birthday diorama which was littered with American flags, toy eagles, and sunflowers. France dashed towards it and picked all the sunflowers he could in one swoop. America – along with everyone else – raised an eyebrow as he rushed back inside.

"Why - ?" China asked aloud, but then they got their answer as France shouted:

"ENGLAND! I'M COMING!"

The Baltics' and China's eyes widened as they realized who must've been left alone with whom.

Meanwhile, England and Russia – along with the alcohol – were no longer in the kitchen. France went running around the house, trying to find them.

"RUSSIA! I have sunflowers! It's been a while since you've held sunflowers, right? _Right?_"

France opened door after door after door with no luck. But _finally _he stumbled upon America's bedroom. (It had to have been America's bedroom, because the door was painted with the colors of his flag.)

France reached out for the doorknob, but the door burst open, and Russia pushed France out of the way with such gusto that one would have thought he was waiting for France the whole time. However, Russia ran right past France, as though he didn't even realize someone had been in front of the door, and hurried down the hall, his scarf trailing past him. France picked himself up and rubbed the back of his head. He blinked a few times as he entered America's bedroom, his eyes adjusting to the light.

His eyes widened as he spotted Belarus straddling England, a knife held above her head.

"No one gets between me and Big Brother Russia," she breathed almost innocently.

"Belarus!" France called out, regretting it as soon as she turned and glared at him. He swallowed hard. "It's not England's fault, I was getting him sloshed so _I_ could have my way with him. He's not in his right mind, and I'm not even sure if he knew it was Russia . . . chaining him to the bed . . . putting him into a maid outfit . . . making him into an S&M fantasy. . . ."

He made a mental note to send Russia the biggest thank-you gift he could find.

"I'm sure England just got me and Russia mixed up. Why don't you go see if your brother needs any help locating the vodka? He's been looking for it for such a long time, I'm sure he'd love your help looking."

For a moment, France wasn't sure it worked. But, slowly but surely, Belarus got off of England – and the bed – and wandered out into the hall, looking for Russia once more.

France heaved a sigh of relief, dropped the sunflowers, and drug his feet across the red-white-and-blue carpet towards the bed.

England looked absolutely _delicious_ tied up like that, all decked out in frill and lace and why did Russia choose a French maid outfit? France wasn't complaining, but England didn't really have the chest to pull off the bodice.

France shrugged and just lay down next to England. He looked at how angelic England looked when he slept – he's asleep?

France waved a hand in front of England's face to make sure, but sure enough, he could hear a little bit of a snore. He smiled a little bit, wondering what he'd say once France woke him up so they could have "fun time". Because there was no way that France was getting him out of the situation he was currently –

The lights turned on all of a sudden, and America was shouting, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED!?"

In.

England groaned at the light source and turned his head away as best he could, his eyebrows furrowing.

France scrambled to sit up and pressed his finger to his lips.

"Shush! You'll wake him up!"

"WAKE HIM UP!?" America shrieked.

"You mean he doesn't know he's tied up like that or in a dress?" Canada asked, a worried expression on his face; France hadn't even noticed he was standing next to America.

"WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOUDOING TO HIM!?"

"That's disgusting, even for you, Papa."

"JUST WHAT WERE YOU PLANNING TO DO IN MY BED!?"

France's face looked like one of Italy's tomatoes.

"Oh, how else would you two even exist if I didn't get a little kinky every now and then!?"

America's mouth hung open, whatever he was planning on yelling next lost. Canada's eyes widened. In unison, they said: "H-huh?"

"Oh, please, you two seriously didn't get the birds and the bees talk?"

"Huh!?"

"But – but - !" America spluttered.

"M-men can't have children with other men, Papa. . . ."

"Then how come you call England "Daddy" and me "Papa", dear Canada?"

Canada opened his mouth, then closed it.

"And you look so much like me, as it is, and yet you lived with England so much. Are you telling me you didn't figure it out yourself?"

Canada stared at France, speechless. America's lips moved, but no words came out.

"W-we are not your biological children!" America finally articulated, pointing defiantly at France. "And that does not excuse you from trying to do the McNasty with England IN MY BED!"

"Oh America, wasn't I _always_ around when you were a child and still living with England? I was there since day one with you."

"MEN CAN'T BECOME PREGNANT!"

"Then how did Hong Kong come into existence, I wonder?"

America fell speechless again, and Canada and America both just stared at France for a long time.

"I mean, England and China are his parents, so I wonder how he could have come into existence if dear England isn't capable of carrying the beautiful bundles of joy who grew up into you two, Hong Kong, Sealand, etc.?"

The two blonds stared at France some more. Then, slowly, Canada formulated a counter attack.

"Daddy doesn't have a vagina, so he couldn't have been able to give birth to me or America. And we know you don't have one, since you run around naked so often."

"And we can ask Japan and Korea if China has one or not," America added, crossing his arms.

France made tutting sounds.

"How much do you two know about spotted hyenas?"

Canada and America stared some more.

"What does that have anything to do with this?" America dared to ask.

"Female hyenas don't have vaginas, either. Don't you watch Animal Planet, America? It's an American television channel, after all. It was in an episode of _Weird, True, and Freaky_."

The brothers continued to stare at France.

"Then . . . how do they give birth to baby hyenas?" Canada dared to ask.

"Well, their – "

"!" England screamed.

It appeared that he awoke.

"WHAT AM I DOING IN THIS DAMN FRENCH MAID OUTFIT!? I THOUGHT I TOLD FRANCE TO BURN THIS MONSTEROUS THING BACK DURING THE FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR!?"

France laughed nervously, but America and Canada just kept staring. It was quite probable that France succeeded in breaking their brains.

Slowly, Canada said the one thing that could bring him and his brother back to the realm of the living.

"I thought French maid outfits weren't around until the 19th century."

"Who knows anymore," said America, now frowning as his imagination began to run away with him.

"AND WHY AM I TIED UP!? FRANCE, FOR GOD'S SAKE, UNTIE ME THIS MINUTE! I TOLD YOU I'M NOT INTO THIS CRAP! AND WHEN DID I EVEN AGREE TO THIS! UNTIE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"You'd think you'd have a hangover," France said as he pulled at the handcuffs. Then he realized something. "Um, England? Russia probably has the key."

There was a long moment of silence. Then –

"WHAT WOULD RUSSIA WANT WITH THE KEY TO THESE HANDCUFFS!? GO GET THEM THIS MOMENT! NOW! ONCE I'M OUT OF THIS, I'M GONNA MAKE YOU PAY FOR THIS, YOU GIT!"

France sighed as he got off the bed and walked off in search of Russia, who was probably hiding from Belarus. He picked the sunflowers off the floor and began his search.

America and Canada walked farther into the room and sat at the end of the bed.

England was breathing hard, and he was blushing more than he had in a long time, and it was still America's stupid birthday, and what the hell was he even doing in America's stupid bedroom, was France really that shameless, and how the hell did Russia even have anything to do with this, and his head hurt, and the screaming didn't help, but damn it, he hated this dress so much, damn it. . . .

"Daddy?" Canada said, sounding so much like the little kid that England should have paid more attention to but adored nonetheless.

"What is it, Canada?" England asked, trying not to sound too disgruntled at him. Losing circulation in his wrists made that a little difficult, though.

"Is what Papa said true?"

England raised an eyebrow.

"Is what true?"

Canada glanced at America, and America gulped.

"W-well," America started out. Now England knew he should be concerned. America was _never_ hesitant to say something.

"D-did you really give birth to me and Canada?"

England stared at him, unable to believe the question. _What?_

"And is Papa really our biological parent?"

"I know that doesn't really sound right," America said. "B-but . . . I can't really remember how I came to be. My earliest memories are of you and France fighting, just like he said. . . ."

England narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

"This idea that France got me pregnant with you two. . . . Did he tell you this?"

They nodded, not realizing that England had gone from regular angry to dangerous angry.

England pulled on the handcuffs, and they broke in half, taking some of the headboard off with them. Canada and America gaped. England ripped the maid outfit off, got off the bed, and didn't bother to look for the clothes he wore to the party. He walked out of the bedroom and down the hall. Canada and America peered into the hall and waited.

France's screams echoed through the entire house.

Canada and America shared a look.

"He didn't answer our question." America said.

Canada nodded. "I just hope that Cuba and I can't have children. They're nice and all, but I don't think he and I are ready for that."

America laughed nervously. "I hope neither I nor my partners can get pregnant, either. I've been cheating on Japan with Korea and Lithuania for a while now."

Canada sighed.

"Just don't let China or Russia hear you say that."

"."

Red Roses2: XD Pardon any historical inaccuracies (or current events inaccuracies). And pardon anything out of character. Feel free to correct me. Now, a breakdown of the pairings used.

France x England – completely required for the idea to even work, but it's also my favorite England pairing. My reasons for liking it are both from Hetalia and from history. (King Richard I of England having an amorous affair with the king of France, for one.) It makes a good Slap Slap Kiss pairing.

England x Russia – It just happened, and my only reasoning is that Russia wants EVERYONE to become one with him, so why not?

Canada x Cuba – this is my MOST favorite Hetalia pairing. I really like Cuba, especially with him being the only Latin American country that I'm aware is part of Hetalia. All my reasons for liking it come from Hetalia itself.

America x Lithuania – this was the first America pairing that I liked. All of my reasons for supporting it come from Hetalia itself.

America x Korea – my support for this one comes from Korea adopting American bureaucracy and the Korean martial art of Tae Kwon Do being the most popular martial art in America. And the characters have similar personalities.

America x Japan – I can't decide if this is my favorite America pairing or not, but it's definitely the one I see the most potential for. (I say this because I see England x America as a purely father-son relationship.) The Meiji Restoration sets up a cute get-together, WWII gives it a lot of angst, and I think that they'd be able to patch things up, what with America buying so much anime and manga and enjoying Japan's food so much. (Though Japan would have a heart attack if he knew America sometimes deep-fried the sushi. . . .)

Slut!America – I don't think America would be like that, but I couldn't decide which of the three pairings I liked the most, and it makes it funnier.


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